


brought upon the wind

by ostercracker



Category: The Legend of Zelda, ZelGan - Fandom
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), POV Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ostercracker/pseuds/ostercracker
Summary: Zelda, Queen of Hyrule, brings her troops into Gerudo territory for some reason.
Relationships: Ganondorf/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The Queen Zelda of Hyrule sat upon a white horse, surrounded by a handful of soldiers. The men glistened in desert sun like ironclad beetles and shuffled about like careless mice. It was foolish to wear armor in the Gerudo desert but they did not expect to travel so far south on this day. Questioning royalty was near criminal, especially from that of the Queen’s own personal force. However, the baking, confused men looked to their Commander in silent desperation. 

Commander Ando Calphine swallowed, hot nerves in a dry throat. His usual feathered helmet hung dead and wet-sweated at his right hip like a shot wood grouse. He could feel every moment that his troops passively watched his thinning blonde head and hurried to speak up. 

“Your Highness?” Calphine gained the Queen’s sideway look from under her hood. Zelda was unusually beautiful, her face always taking him by surprise. In the few weeks since the coronation he had begun to get to know the once guarded Princess, now a far more elusive Queen. She did not hold much of the kindred warmth of her father, instead echoed what Calphine had known of the previous Queen. She studied him with her mother’s eyes, two swirling, grey hurricanes. 

Her lips finally gave way to a gentle grin, “Commander?” She sounded surprised, entertained even. The mare, Buttermilk was her name, halted at Zelda’s pull, swiveling a curious ear around to listen in too. 

“My Queen, I, my men, were not prepared for such a…long detour into desert lands.” Her smile turned from him suddenly as she peered out into the warbling, distant sands. Zelda noticeably perked up, as if a lifelong noble could sit any taller. A knot twisted in Calphine’s gut. He felt the reason for their journey hurling at him from the South. And he really rather not look. But he did. 

Three distant figures mixed into the horizon’s heat. All of the troops tried to blink them away like a mirage.

“Not a worry, Commander.” When her bittersweet voice piped up again she was on the ground, undoing the belts on Buttermilk’s saddlebag. The sweet sounds of liquid filled the men’s ears and soon several bloated skins of water plummeting to the sand. “But it is reasonable, in a case like this, I suppose…” She spoke into the horse’s haunch, brows knit tight as she rummaged around. She revealed two sheathed daggers, plain, those of the Hylian recruits. Zelda met Calphine’s eyes again. “To worry, I mean.” Her eyes were distant in that moment before she quickly stuffed a dagger into each boot. Calphine was shrouded in nervous anger, clamping his lips tight to not step out of his position. What had she gotten them into? This, child! 

He managed a breathy laugh, about to question in some manner before Zelda addressed them all, turning in her armed riding boots, the periwinkle blue of her dress concealing them in a swish. Her hood was down, her white gem circlet glittering with every small movement. “These are your supplies for three days time, camp here, and if I do not return by then, you may take matters into your own hands.” She checked behind her for the figures, who were approaching at an incredible pace. “And do not speak until I am gone.”

“This is ludicrous, Zelda!” Calphine hissed through gritted teeth.

She turned from them all then, up a small incline to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda is escorted by the Gerudo to their camp.

Zelda had never been so close to the Gerudo. She knew much, however, as her father made her read what was kept in the castle library. Volumes she had dogeared in these past few weeks. A race of women. Tall, brutish women. And other words her father used when she had secretly crept into strategy meetings as a child. Zelda learned to fear what was larger than her, the Hylian Princess. Especially the Gerudo King. 

These women were several yards away when they stopped, watching the Queen. They were covered by many scarves, rich colors of yellow ochre, burgundy, and aquamarine. Only their hands and eyes could be seen of their persons, skin a red-brown like lava settling into the sea. Zelda was too aware of the twin curved blades on their hips. Her mind grappled for more handholds to climb. These women were as blank as the dunes. 

“We agreed on no military forces.” The woman in the middle of the three spoke through a scarf, loud and deep despite the covering. 

“My men escorted me, I bring no malice.” Zelda stood on the top of a dune, holding back a glance backwards to her soldiers on the other side. Although she towered over the women she felt the sandy peak was about to give way.

The center woman spoke quietly to the other two in Gerudo which suddenly turned to harsh conversation. The woman to the left pointed a hand at the Queen and as their voices rose. Zelda felt like she did many times in the castle, something like a vase or a frayed rug. She held her breath, doubt filling her cup. The middle woman yelled at them, the others silencing. She removed her scarf to reveal a face of sharp edges. She was older than the other two, Zelda had concluded, brazen and lovely to look at. 

“Come on.” She called, evidently annoyed. 

➹

Their small camp was an hour away. Or, an hour of Zelda keeping up with the women. They conversed the whole way amongst themselves, openly in their tongue. No thought was given to Zelda’s knowledge of the language, which had only been built from the last three weeks of reading. She could make out simple words such as “small” and “hungry” but every time a snickering laugh crept along their rousing voices Zelda could feel her cheeks heat more and more. She just hoped her hair was long enough to cover the increasing wetness pooling at the curve of her spine. But even then her head was filled by a much bigger problem. 

She didn't pay mind to the new Gerudo women her escorts greeted at their camp as she was watching the largest tent. A sturdy square, tall by Hylian standards and as red has a vein of garnet. The golden crest of the Gerudo was embroidered over and over into the sheets of canvas. They watched her endlessly, pulsing in a sudden gust of wind. She clasped her hands behind her back, rubbing deep and hard into the back of her left hand. 

“Wait here.” Her head snapped up to the older Gerudo. She must be some general or other leader amongst the women, Zelda thought, as she slipped through a slit in the tent’s side. High, muffled laughter vibrated through the structure just as the escort entered, excited shrieks and sighs cut off by snickers and quiet discussion. She heard the escort speak, silencing the merrymaking for a moment before a gruff, low word of compliance was spoken. The only male voice, the only male Gerudo. 

Two women exited seconds later, locking on to Zelda with wild eyes. She had never seen so much of the female body in her life. Breasts wrapped in thin purple scarves and tasseled fabric tied around waists to fully allow for long, strong legs. In the brief moment of watching them watch her Zelda was reminded of moments alone with her own body, always accompanied by a maid or nun on the other side of the door. One of the two smiled, her arm finding the waist of the other as they both walked past Zelda. She made herself not watch further.

Her escort reappeared to the strange relief of Zelda, “You may enter now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok going to make chapters longer after this, getting through the awkwardness of re-writing old stuff woof


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda meets the Demon King for the first time.

Walking into the tent was not dissimilar to diving into the North sea. The inside was cool. Significantly, in fact. The heat of the desert was replaced by deep, cold dread. She would have much rather turned around and walked right back into the scorching sun. She was blinded at first, a fact that settled with a shiver up her sweated spine. Her eyes could not work fast enough to accommodate the interior. The air was like sinking into honey, incense burning scents unfamiliar to her. Smoke plumes hung stagnant in the rich darkness to further disorient any outsider. 

Her heart was pounding against her chest, trying to escape, maybe, Zelda had thought. But she was idle for too long, and forcing a step forward helped to come to terms with where she was and what was waiting for her in that sudden darkness. The tend was even larger than it had seemed from the outside, erected by a center pole. Staring up to its top there were small pockets of desert sun, dancing in swift breezes and mingling with the dark. Another step and she saw a table, or, a piece of some ancient ruin jutting from the sand. A cloth lye across it, disguising its past purpose, as well as a small, half-eaten feast. She heard movement, evidence of life. Panic made her eyes dart in every direction, even upward until a pile of silks and pleated pillows towards the back wall had become particularly suspicious. 

“Princess,” The pile of cloths rumbled and she quickly pieced together the Gerudo King. Lounging, a body even larger than the strong women of the camp. She could’ve mistaken it for a wrongly disturbed lion. His face was unclear still, locks of dark hair long enough to mix with the satin pillows he rested on. His eyes opened suddenly, as he removed a pipe from his lips. Furious bronze fixed on her. Curls of thick smoke exited from his person and he was muddied into the darkness once again. “What, a, pleasure.”

“Queen.” She forced out, loosening the fists her palms had crumpled into. He must have known of the coronation…

“Ah, Queen," He nodded, a grin on lips framed by a clean beard, “Very interesting.” He began to unwind from his cushioned throne, rising up and up until Zelda felt a need to step back, to hide behind the smoked air. Ganondorf Dragmire surely was the desert beast Zelda’s farther had once warned her of. Craning her neck to the point of exhaustion, Zelda shied to meet his gaze and instead studied him quickly. He was wearing warrior’s robes, long and embellished with golden thread. Rings of precious metals glinted on thick fingers as his arms crossed across his large chest. She could see hardened muscles through the deep opening of his garment and shimmers of light perspiration on his neck. He was smiling then, as she examined his face. Thankfully the room could hide the heat gathering in her cheeks.

“Yes.” She spoke, more of a hushed hiss. “I’ve come to speak on equal ground. Between two rulers.” 

“Did that old frog croak, then?” A spark of fury alit within her doubt. She felt he was moving closer. 

“My father?”

The grin expanded, “Well, your mother died quite a long while ago, didn’t she?” Her eyes narrowed, feeling his toying on every nerve. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to forget that, Ganondorf.” 

He released a quick sound, something of pleasure. “I wonder… what has your father said of me?” He rounded her comment, eyes locked on her’s. He was ready to feed on her emotion, swallow her whole. She worked to dissolve the fury in her gut, face dropping into boring complacency. Like many times before.

“He called you the Scourge of the South, Boar on Fire, Demon King…” She peered up at him, his smile a brutish mar of self-indulgence. “I hope to soon see why.” She breathed out and took it upon herself to sit on the one chair in the middle of the tent. One with mysterious intent. She crossed her arms, pleased to no longer see his smile. Instead, his lips parted in something more confused or curious. 

He snickered then, moving to the table next to the Queen’s seat, where a droplet of sunlight finally lit his face for her. He was young, much younger than his reputation preceded. The Gerudo did age slower than her people and so she pondered as to how many years he had lived. Although he wore a face fresher than what she had imagined, it was sunken and dark at the eyes, the sign of much hard thought. His brows were thick enough to meet his impressive mane, hair dark yet red like cold fire in the sun. His nose a flat pillar. His lips were… prince-like, she thought. 

“I do always mean to impress.” The sound of liquid came suddenly and Zelda peered down to his hands. A pain drew at her throat. Thick, purple wine he poured from a golden chalice. She was thirsty. He handed her the first goblet of drink, then poured his own. She held the too-large cup in two hands, watching him pour the liquid down his throat, large muscles working to finish the cup. He patted his lips on the back of a hand, looking to her and she sipped, reluctantly, at first, and then in deep gulps. She paused when a rouge drip slipped from the edge of her mouth, feeling something hot against her. Ganondorf’s thumb, pressed against her cheek, holding her face. She threw her arm against his own, swiping her face away as fury ignited. And he chuckled. 

“Why did you come here, Zelda?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah so I am..... still catching up.

**Author's Note:**

> BROUGHT UPON THE WIND 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO
> 
> okay i wrote this story in 2016 and i read after so long and it sucks so i'm going to rewrite it thanks for reading muah


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